That Was Then
by 142staircases
Summary: Every part of life has a context. This is the context of Lily, James, and their friends in the years surrounding their death.
1. Lily Evans Was Not Eating

**Summary:** Every part of life has a context. This is the context of Lily, James, and their friends in the years surrounding their death. The chapters were initially individually published oneshots, but they were intended to be read together, so now they are together.

**AN:** So, here is the deal: Cece, while procrastinating, began rereading and seeing lots of things she could twiddle with. So she's reposting. Most of her oneshots will appear in this greater work, as well as integration of things from the Lily-and-James-get-married threeshot and from Common Misconceptions. The reposts mostly contain additions, although she doesn't doubt that some deleting will happen (a couple of chapters from Common Misconceptions are going to go). They won't only be about Lily and James, but the stories will surround that generation.

If, in the future, Cece writes more oneshots that will fit into this story, she will weave them in (so, after she finishes editing, she might add something and then put it in as a new chapter two or something). Sorry if this confuses you. I hope that it won't. It'll probably be marked as "complete" once all the updates are done, but if you feel like it, add it to your notification list, since more might come anyway. Who knows. The brain is a special place.

As always, feedback is welcome.

**Disclaimer:** If we owned the Harry Potter series, and had created its glory, we would not be writing fanfiction. We would be writing more novels. Alas...

**Lily Evans was not Eating**

Lily Evans was not eating. This was abnormal. If she did not have an extremely lucky constitution, Lily would be the size and weight of a young killer whale. Rest assured that when Lily Evans does not eat, something sinister must be afoot.

Sirius Black sometimes calls her Mooey—when he isn't calling her Lillins—to get on her nerves and remind her that she does, like a cow, have food in her mouth at all times. He suggested to her once that this might be because, like a cow, she has four stomachs, and if one were empty at any given time, she would starve to death. This afforded him little more than a look of scorn and a slap upside the head.

Lily had learned a while ago that, while she had positions of authority in school, the only way to teach the boys in our year anything, was not detention, the docking of points, embarrassment, threats, or blackmail, but physical abuse.

(Incidentally, Sirius claims that his family made up Blackmail because in every letter that his ancestors sent, would be a sinister threat that something very unfortunate would befall the recipient if the recipient did not do whatever the Black requested. Naturally, none of us believe him.)

In any event, back to the whole Lily Evans was not eating thing.

Lily Evans was not eating.

Ok, fine, so I am sounding repetitive. But honestly, it's like the second coming of the messiah: it only happens once and you should fear for your life and soul when it does.

She had a plate full of food, but was only picking at it. She sighed ostentatiously, and then pushed the food away.

"Are you all right, Lily?" I asked, carefully.

"I'm fine, Mary. Why do you ask?" she replied, quietly and carefully.

"Well…you aren't eating…"

She laughed. "Don't tell Sirius, he will conjure a coffin to follow me around so that—in the event that I should snuff it from starvation—everything will be ready for my immediate burial."

I laughed too. "My lips are sealed."

"I just have something on my mind…"

"Want to share? Two minds are better than one. The talking cure. All that fun stuff."

Lily hesitated, and only six odd years of knowing her well allowed me to see that she was considering very carefully what she was going to do. I waited patiently, taking a bite out of my sandwich, hoping that she would reach a decision soon.

At last, she looked up and down the Gryffindor table. There were a couple of first years out of earshot, but we were the only ones in our year who were at lunch yet. Most of our classmates took Muggle Studies during this hour. But, being muggleborns, Lily and I didn't really have the same motivation that our friends had in studying the daily lives and technologies of muggles. James took the class because he wanted to woo Lily more easily, Remus because his mum was muggleborn and told him to, Sirius to spite his parents, Peter because his mates did, and Alice because she wanted to know what the hell we were talking about when we used words like "television," "phone," and "communist."

"All right," she said quickly and quietly, "but you have to swear on your life and the life of John Lennon that you will tell not even your cat. Do you understand?"

"It must be serious, if I am swearing on John Lennon's life," I mocked, carefully.

"Oh, shut up." She snapped quietly, looking at the firsties again.

"What's up?" I said, serious once again.

"Do you swear?"

"Yes, I swear on my life and on that of John Lennon. What?"

"I like Potter."

"Is that it? You have been getting along better so that doesn't surprise me."

"No. You don't understand. I _really_ like Potter."

"As in Lily and James sitting in a tree?"

"Oh shut up. And yes."

I whistled.

"I never would have guessed."

"Yeah, well, it's easy to stay in a pattern that has worked for years, isn't it?"

"When did this start?"

"Ohh…" she exhaled, calculating, "I would say since about a month ago?"

"In other words, since the start of term?"

"Shut up."

"What's there to 'shut up' about? I'm just trying to be accurate. And what's so wrong with starting to like him at the start of term? Fresh slate after the summer, head boy, strangely mature in a way I never would have thought possible given how he has been acting for the past two years."

"Shut up. I know all that. Believe me, I know. I've been trying to think how and why this happened for the past month and it's useless. I," her voice lowered, "_like_ him."

"What do you mean it's useless. I don't think thinking and talking about it is—"

"Well, given that I started liking him at the beginning of term, doesn't that mean that the seeds of liking him have been around for a while?"

I paused. "I guess. But then again…"

"What?"

"Well, you always fought with him more than the others, even though Sirius caused more damage than James, and had all of James' obnoxious traits in greater abundance. Maybe…it was…"

"Some sign of understated sexual tension?"

"Yeah."

"That's what I've been thinking," she took a deep breath. "Ugh! Mary, I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean? It isn't that hard. Go out with him."

"Well. There's two problems with that: one, he doesn't ask me out any more, he just jokes about doing it like 'be careful Lily, or I will be forced to ask you out again,' so I don't know if he still likes me the way I like him. Two, I have some pride. If I just accepted when he asked me out…what would that make me look like, hm?"

"I don't see what's wrong with that."

"That's because he hasn't been asking you out twice a week since fifth year. I'd feel a bit of an idiot if I just turned around and said yes, wouldn't I? It would be admitting that I—"

"Like him."

Lily glowered at me, but nodded.

"Then you do, indeed, have a dilemma," I exhaled, leaning back on the bench, trying very hard not to sound as though I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

"I don't know what to—" but she stopped talking at once.

The rest of our year was striding up the table, talking loudly.

"I still don't get what the point of Communism is," Peter was saying.

"Nobody does, Pete. That's why muggles talk about Commies as though they are morons," Sirius replied, matter-of-factly.

"But USSR, China, North Korea and parts of Southeast Asia all have communist regimes going on. So it can't be that pointless. There has to be something there, right?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Peter," said Remus, sitting down next to me. Alice, who had been walking up the other end of the table, sat down by Lily. James slipped under the table to sit on Lily's other side. Peter sat by Remus and Sirius by me, across from James. This was how we always sat, at least, since James and Lily had started being civil. Before, James would sit on next to Alice and Sirius next to Peter. "Voldemort has a following, doesn't he? Why shouldn't Communists?"

"I wouldn't equate Voldemort to Communists, Remus," said Lily.

"The muggleborn rears its head," murmured Sirius in a way that reminded me of a wildlife documentary, "Let's observe, shall we."

"Communism is an ideological struggle based on the thought that economic and social inequality—and even economic and social oppression—is wrong. Voldemort likes the ideas of economic and social oppression, so…"

"He's more like Hitler," I said, for maybe the twelfth time. They hadn't started studying Nazism yet, so they rolled their eyes. They would get there soon enough.

"I was just trying to make a point that sometimes, people don't have to be logical or have a point to get a following," said Remus.

"Ok. Then that works fine," said Lily.

"Can we talk about something else?" demanded Sirius, "I mean sure, talking about political social philosophy is fun and all that, and I certainly enjoy talking about how Voldemort clearly didn't get any as a young man, but can a man have a break? We just had double muggle studies and I'm tired of it." Most everyone smiled or laughed. "I mean, there are surely more important things to talk about, such as Lillins' imminent and painful destruction."

"What do you mean?" asked Lily quickly, and I was sure that her thoughts had instantly turned to our previous conversation. I, on the other hand, knew where this was going.

"Lily, are you feeling all right?" asked James, his voice sounding pained. He took her hand. "I mean, if you aren't you can always talk to me about it, my darling Lily. Oh, your time on this earth was too short. And we never even dated," he sighed. Lily looked mortified, although it was an expression that could easily have been mistaken for disgust or surprise.

"Quick James, you are right there! Feed her quickly, before one of Mooey's stomachs empties!" Sirius urged.

Lily burst out laughing, undoubtedly relieved. She raised a forkful of mashed potatoes to her mouth and ostentatiously took a bite.

"Thank goodness," said Sirius.

"Indeed, thank the heavens. Oh Lily, never scare me like that again," said James, placing his hand on his throat.

"Shut up, the pair of you," Lily muttered.

"Good, the universe has righted itself, Lily is eating again, James is saved from losing his lady-love, we are no longer talking about Communism, will one of you prats finish up and help me with my transfiguration homework?"

"Alice, you need only ask, my dear, lovely, gorgeous, brilliant, kind, generous—"

"Shut up, Sirius, you don't want to come on too strong. I learned that one the hard way," James advised, looking pained as he glanced over at Lily. She ignored him, although there was an imperceptible twitch at her mouth.

"Yes, I will help you," said Sirius. He shoved his entire plate of food into his mouth, stood up (still chewing), and extended his hand to Alice.

"What do you want me to do, walk through the table?" she asked, picking up her bag and walking down the row. Sirius followed her, still chewing.

"What was the transfiguration assignment again?" asked Peter.

"Advanced conjuring essay. Due tomorrow. Remember?" said James.

"Oh damn," Peter stood up and called after Sirius, "Hang on a minute! I'm coming!" fiddled with his bag, took a final sip of pumpkin juice and scurried down the row after his friend.

"Lily, are you sure you're feeling ok? You haven't been eating," James said, his voice quite serious now.

"I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Lily," James teased, "NEWTs are months away."

"That's not what I'm nervous about."

"You shouldn't feel bad about having thrown Stebbins in detention. The prat deserved it."

"I know that, and it doesn't bother me."

"Then what is?"

"Were you only talking about communism in Muggle studies?" I asked, drawing Remus into a conversation.

"Well, it was communism mostly. Professor McKenna was trying to explain what on earth the Cold War is, and what its purpose is, and in doing so, had to explain the differences between a communist and capitalist society, the iron curtain, and so on and so forth."

("What, Lily?")

("Really, I'm fine James. There's nothing to worry about.")

("You just said that you had a lot on your mind, and that it isn't exams, or Head Girl stuff. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?")

"That sounds fascinating. I wish I understood it better."

"I'd explain it to you now, except, as Sirius said, I'd like a break. It's really not too fun having to try to explain to a set of pure-bloods how this effects them in any way."

("James?" Lily's voice sounded odd.)

("Yes?")

("Would you go out with me?")

Remus couldn't help it. He stared. I did too.

"Wait, come again?" said James. He looked shocked and confused.

Lily was bright red. It clashed horribly with her hair.

"Would you go out with me?" she said, very quietly but very clearly.

He stared at her too. "All right."

"Great," Lily was still bright red, but she looked quite pleased with herself.

"Wait. Can I ask you something?" said James. His voice sounded somewhere between angry and bewildered.

"Yes." Lily replied slowly.

"Well, if you've been refusing me ever since I started asking you out, why are you asking me out now?"

"Well. I like you. And you haven't given me the opportunity to accept at all this year."

"So you just figured, hey, why not try?"

"Pretty much."

"Ok." James was still observing her closely. He then slowly, ever so slowly, placed an arm around her waist.

Lily, if that was possible, went even redder. But she did not remove his arm. She looked quite pleased with herself, in fact. She grabbed a-hold of her fork and took another bite her mashed potatoes. And then another.


	2. Punching Lessons

**Punch**

Five years. He had managed for five years for no one to figure it out. No one, except his friends, and if he had told them from the beginning, they would have understood. At least, he thought they would.

They certainly understood now. They alone completely understood what it meant that he not only could transform into an uncontrollable beast, but that he could do so and still have friends who would look him in the eye every day knowing this. It was to them, as James put it, _merely a_ _furry little problem_. He smiled wryly. Well, it was no longer little. It was much bigger now.

Severus Snape knew now. He would never have figured it out. Of that, Remus was sure. Utterly positive. He might have suspected, tried, but he never would have found out. The mystery would have remained evasive. He would have remained forever frustrated by the knowledge that Remus, once a month, accompanied Madam Pomfrey out of the castle.

Not anymore. Because Sirius had let slip where he went, and Snape had seen—_actually seen_—him.

He didn't know if the hollow in his stomach came from fear of Snape's knowledge, or rage that Sirius had…well, betrayed seemed too strong a word.

"Remus," whispered Peter, "Remus, are you awake?"

"I'm not in the mood to study, Peter," groaned Remus, pulling his blanket over his head. Peter seemed to have decided that he was going to do better on his N.E.W.T.s than he did on his O.W.L.s, and was hell bent on studying, though their first term was hardly started. While the desire was admirable, Remus often found himself wishing that he weren't the only person in Gryffindor who was willing to study with Peter. Doing so sapped away whatever free time he had.

He wished he _were_ asleep. He hadn't been sleeping well since it happened. Even though Dumbledore had sworn Snape to secrecy, he still felt uneasy about the whole arrangement. And, on top of his nerves, he had nightmares of Snape telling the whole school, and him having to leave before he even had a chance to explain himself.

"Neither am I, so that works out well, doesn't it," said Peter dryly.

"Then what do you want." He wished he didn't sound so snappish there.

"I dunno, you've just been out of it lately. I wanted to know if something was the matter."

"I'm fine. Utterly fine. I just haven't been sleeping well is all."

"You are not utterly fine if you haven't been sleeping well, Remus "I fall asleep the second my eyes shut" Lupin. Why don't you just say it?"

"Say what?"

"I don't know. You have to tell me."

How he would love to say it, if he knew what it was. He glanced at Peter, and sighed.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things, I suppose. Prefect stuff, N.E.W.T.s—"

"They're not for months!" moaned Peter, as though he were not the one studying at least three times a week already. Remus overrode him.

"and the whole thing with…" He let the sentence hang. He didn't want to put words to it.

"With what?" Peter asked.

"Snape and Sirius," Remus said through gritted teeth.

"We seem to have found the problem."

Remus glanced at Peter, then nodded slowly. Peter wasn't slow. He knew where the points of pressure were when he saw them.

"Spit it out," urged Peter.

Peter's words seemed to hang in the air, nagging at Remus—who was ordinarily very good at shrugging things off. (He had to be, with his friends.) But this time, it was enough.

"It wasn't his bloody secret. It was _mine_. Who did he think he was, telling Snape to do that? I don't care how much he hates Snape. He goes on and on about how we are the best friends in the world, and then he goes and—I don't want to say _betrayed,_because it certainly isn't that - but no other word comes to mind, Peter. No other word. He did what he didn't have the right to do. I don't care if he's apologized, I wouldn't care if he had apologized a million times. He shouldn't have done that."

A weight somewhere, somehow, lifted.

Peter nodded.

"You know what I think?" said Peter, smiling slightly.

"What?" said Remus, hoping this would lighten his mood. Somehow, whenever Peter tried to be helpful, whenever he suggested something, it was amusing (not always in the nicest of ways).

"I think Sirius Black needs a hit upside the head."

"There's a thought that's going to fester," muttered Remus. He turned away from Peter and tried to fall asleep.

Peter climbed over to his own bed, and began preparing for sleep as well.

Yes, Peter was right. Sirius did need a smack upside the head. And not any old smack, not some friendly, light-hearted tap, but something that would hurt, something that would bruise, something that would knock his brains back into place. He wondered briefly if someone had a sledgehammer that he could borrow. Then he thought that that idea was ridiculous. He was a wizard. He could conjure a sledgehammer.

He got up, climbed out of his bed (or his den, as James called it). He wanted to wash his face. To clear his head. To brush his teeth. To do something that would get his mind off of Sirius Bloody Black.

It didn't help that as he stood at the sink in the bathroom that was connected to their dormitory, he heard the door bang open. James and Sirius were back from pranking (pranking Snape, probably).

"You should have been there, Moony," said Sirius, leaning against the bathroom door, talking to Remus' back. "His eyes got almost as big as dinner plates before he" Remus turned around "even had half a brain to" Remus looked Sirius in the eye "use to think of drawing his wand—" Remus punched. He punched very hard. He actually thought he hurt his own fist a little. But he didn't care.

He felt so much better.

He didn't give a damn over Sirius' "What the hell, mate?" and James' "That was out of order!"

He felt so much better.

He climbed into bed and drew the curtains around him.

Sirius ripped them back open. "What the hell was that for?" he demanded furiously.

"Well," said Remus mildly. He was even beginning to feel quite amused, gleeful even. He could see the humor in the situation. Sirius Black just got socked by his werewolf sidekick. "You see, I was quite bloody pissed at you. And it was the only way that I could think of getting over it without seeming like a girl (because you would have made fun of me). Don't you dare look at me like that, like I did something wrong, because if you were in my shoes, you would have done much worse. You would have, I don't know, levitated me by the ankles or something, humiliated me publicly, but that isn't my style. I'd much rather just hit you and get over it, if you don't mind."

"I don't follow—"

"That was for your telling Snape."

"But I _apologized_ for that a hundred times, and you accepted each time."

"I lied. But I'm not angry any more. If that bruises, go see Madame Pomfrey in the morning and tell her you tripped over my trunk or something."

"You're a right git, you know that?" snapped Sirius.

"You got what you deserved. Do you know what could have happened?"

"We've had this conversation before."

"I know. But it doesn't seem to have sunk in, because if it had, you definitely wouldn't be calling me a git for punching you. You would thank me for being so lenient."

Sirius rolled his eyes and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Remus looked at James. James shrugged, as if to say _I am not getting involved with this. But I'm with you._

Remus looked at Peter.

Peter grinned at him. He grinned back.


	3. Nerds

Nerds Can Be Sexy, Too: A Research Paper

Sirius Black

Detention, given by Professor Moony because Black locked Prongs out of Gryffindor Tower in naught but his skivvies.

November 3rd, 1977

Nerdiness comes in all shapes and forms. Many people—well, really everyone at Hogwarts—wondered how in the name of all that was holy Lily Evans and James Potter got together. For goodness sake, barely three months after the "if you don't deflate your head, I swear before all of these witnesses that I shall cut a hole in it with this paring knife" (Lily Evans [Gry '78], June 15th, 1977, Gryffindor Tower) incident. (NB that no one knew _why _she had a paring knife in her hand.) I mean, every one knew that James had been asking Lily out for ages, but the concept that they would actually be together was beyond most people. Indeed, it was Brunhilda Carvell who said "Wait…what the hell is going on here?" (Brunhilda Carvell [Gry '81], October 5th, 1977, Gryffindor Tower) upon finding the pair of them snogging in an armchair by the fireplace. Well, it really isn't all that complicated. In fact, the whole thing is really quite simple: they are a pair of nerds who are attracted by one another's nerdiness.

First off, it is important to recognize the different forms of Nerdiness in the world. There are some, like Professor Moony, who love nothing besides a good book and spend hours upon hours fondling their books in some kind of strange foreplay before they even begin reading them. Then, there are the nerds, like me, who keep it very quiet that they actually do any form of work at all. It would be bad for business, you see, if everyone thought, upon hearing the string of words "Sirius Black is a nerd," that Sirius Black fell into the same category as Moony. He does not spend hours preparing to read books. He does not feel the need to carry around books: he reads them before bed—when he has no other form of reading material left him, because Peter has stolen his magazines.

Unfortunately, neither Lily Evans nor James Potter fall into either of these two nerd categories, so we must dig a little deeper.

Lily Evans is the type of nerd who "knows more than you without trying," (Felicity Harrington [Rav '78], March 31st, 1972, Charms) and yet is unaware that she is, in fact, a nerd. Sure, she reads, but that is not where her nerd-power comes from. Oh no. You see, while Lily is a brilliant witch, who outperforms everyone in the branches of Potions and Charms, her knowledge of the Wizarding World is miniscule in comparison to her knowledge of the Muggle World. She knows the difference between Haydn and Mozart (Squibs whom I had never heard of until I did a little bit of research), she knows, not only what DNA is, but also what DNA stands for, and has an unhealthy obsession with nineteenth century literature. She is, shall we say, extremely excited by all things that anyone could deem remotely intellectual, and spends a great deal of time spouting strange facts, such as the phrase _egg on _coming from Old Norse and meaning "to goad someone with a pointy stick." This fact in particular has proved most useful, given that we, the residents of Hogwarts Castle, spend a great deal of time goading one another with pointy sticks.

A dear classmate of mine sums it up best: "She is a nerd, a dork, a geek, but a cool one. One whose nerdy practices are not revolting." (Alice Hoffman [Gry '78], September 14th, 1975, Potions)

Now, we move on to specimen number two: James Irving Potter.

Where to begin with the nerd cortex of James Potter's brain? Where to begin? He hides it very well, but not out of what Professor Moony would call "Padfoot's insecurity about a smart guy getting hot women" (Remus Lupin [Gry '78], December 12th, 1975, Great Hall). He does it almost unintentionally: you see, he is, on top of being a nerd, an athlete, and let's face it, nerds and athletes are under no circumstances allowed to intermingle, much less overlap. And so, for reasons utterly beyond his control, whenever people look at him, they do not think "nerd_"_—even though they should—they think "Oh my god it's James Potter! He's so cool! I would let him throw his Quaffle into my hoop any day, if you know what I mean_…"_ (Bertha Jorkins [Huf '75], April 1st, 1975, the Library). James is, despite his better nature, cool_._ But I return myself to the subject of his Nerdiness. James is the nerd who thinks it is, if anything, _good_ to be a nerd. He delights in learning the exact same tidbits that Lily spews at a moments notice, and spends a great deal of time doing extra reading for History of Magic, in which, in his Nerdiness, he received an Outstanding O.W.L. and decided, for some unfathomable reason, to continue into the N.E.W.T. level. He loves testing himself. In fact, the decision to become Prongs was made after James read a paper on the subject and thought he rather fancied trying it. But where Lily's Nerdiness covers many levels, James' is concentrated. James is a nerd about things pertaining to Magical Law (which one would expect of the son of a member of the International Confederation of Wizards). Now, whether or not his Nerdiness complies with the law is an entirely different matter, but he certainly knows what laws and/or rules he is breaking when he does so. Indeed, sometimes he knows what rules he is breaking better than those who apprehend him, as when Filch apprehended him for letting loose a horde of Fire Frights without realizing that these very creations had been banned well over a hundred years before. James knew and had to remind Filch so that he could get the proper punishment.

Now you see that we are dealing with two different forms of nerd. Now you see that they have something in common, something which might lead them down the road of attraction.

Now, given how much time I spend in the company of James Potter and Remus Lupin, I would call myself a "Nerd Connoisseur" (Peter Pettigrew [Gry '78], right now, our dormitory). I know a good nerd when I see one, and am well aware of their personal nerdy habits and am an expert on the subject of what makes them tick.

If there is one thing that makes a nerd at all interested in you, it is your ability to discuss nerdy things with a careful nonchalance. Needless to say, this is what made James attracted to Lily in the first place. She was able to quote the opening lines to _Pride and Prejudice_ without waiting for half a second and discuss Muggle medical treatments like Chemotherapy at the tender age of fourteen, James got rather hot and bothered. (I would call it something else, but I am sure that Professor Moony would deduct points for obscenity.)

But now you must understand that when James Potter stopped bragging about his "extreme and natural talent on the Quidditch pitch" (James Potter [Gry '78], June 5th, 1976, Lawn) and the number of detentions he received, and instead discussed the International Trade Commission's decision on the embargo of Flying Carpets, with historical references, Lily's ears were far more attentive to what he had to say.

Perhaps she can delude herself into saying "oh, he has just matured," (Lily Evans, September 30th, 1977, Great Hall) but _I_ know better: he just was letting his little nerd-heart run wild and free, and look what it got him: a girlfriend with whom he can have some sexy/fun times (because even nerds need sexy/fun times).

But I return to the stage before they got together, the stage where James spent a great deal of time telling me about how heartsick he felt that she was dating "that complete and utter git Thomas [Gry '77, Head Boy]" (James Potter, January 15th, 1977, our dormitory) and how he couldn't get "her radiant hair and brilliant emerald eyes out of [his] head" (James Potter, March 4th, 1977, Herbology); the stage where Lily didn't understand why James spent "most of his time brooding and doodling" (Lily Evans, February 14th, 1977, the Library) and wondered when "Potter grew a brain" (Lily Evans, September 1st, 1977, Hogwarts Express); the stage, in short where I wanted to gauge my eyes out with the pointy stick I wanted to use to goad those two into getting together.

James spent most of his time "pining for her eyes to look up and see [him] from across the room and realize that [they] are meant to be" (James Potter, September 5th, 1977, Transfiguration) and reading "magazines of poor repute" (Helen Potter [Gry 1885], July 17th, 1977, The Potter Abode). Lily spent most of her time either with her "boyfriend du jour" (Mary Macdonald [Gry '78], June 1st, 1977, Gryffindor Tower) or working on some nerdy enterprise. It was painful to watch them both in denial for such a long period of time.

Happily, that ended pretty quickly, and I only had to deal with James' griping for two plus years. While those of us who take Muggle Studies were discussing Commie Bastards, Lily asked James out, much to all of our shock, and they have been happily feeling one another up outside of classrooms for the past month.

Honestly, there is only so much a man can take of listening to his best mate's romantic woes, and so James thoroughly deserved to be locked out of Gryffindor Tower in naught but his skivvies.

Comments made by R.J. Lupin:

Grade: Acceptable

(1) Nerdiness is not a word.

(2) You have some awkward sentences, some unnecessary interjections of opinion and some blatant falsehoods.

(3) Your ending was rather blunt and with no conclusion that I can recognize: this significantly lowered your grade.

(4) This was _not_ what I meant when I said "You will write me a nerdy paper or suffer my wrath." But, I appreciate the effort you put into it and might* not assign you another detention.

*this is subject to change at my whim.


	4. Adagio Con Dolore

**Adagio con dolore**

She does not remember the last time she touched a violin.

Her mother had been a music teacher, and she, and Petunia, each played an instrument; she, the violin, Petunia, the piano. When Rose was alive, Rose had played the trumpet. But Lily barely remembers that. Rose has been dead for a long time, and her only memories of that departed sister come from Petunia.

Her mother is now dying the way her oldest daughter had died so many years before. She is lying in a hospital bed, her heart failing, too tired after its long struggle with Leukemia.

What a way to spend Christmas.

She, her sister, her sister's fiancé, and her father are sitting silently next to the matriarch of the family while she breathed her last breaths, her eyes already closed for the last time.

They hear the consistent beeping of the heart monitor.

It reminds her of a metronome.

God, when had she last played?

She hums to herself constantly. It calms her down, to think of the music that her mother had insisted she learn, even though she knew that she would stop when she went with Severus to the magic school he had talked about all the time.

She looks at Petunia, who is clutching Vernon's hand. Petunia is pale and her lips are pursed. She looks very close to tears.

Her dad is already crying.

Lily does not know why, but she feels no tears. No sadness. Just some strange sort of emptiness.

She isn't used to feeling empty. It had been there all the time last year, ever since Severus had…she still didn't know what to call it. Ever since Severus had shown his true colors sounded bad, because she didn't like to think that Severus' true colors had always lain with the Death Eaters. Ever since she and Severus had had their row sounded bad, because it hadn't been a row. Ever since she and Severus had fallen apart wasn't right either, because they hadn't fallen apart. It was like an earthquake had created some great fissure right between them—too deep to cross and too sudden to exist without any pain.

Whenever she heard anything that sounded like his name (severe, snake, seven, snipe) she thought of him. Sixth year had been terrible like that. There is no way to easily lose your best friend, and while she laughed at Sirius' dark jokes, and while she had put on a show of no longer caring for the dark-haired, hook-nosed boy, it was only a show. A show that required a lot of energy, and when the curtains were closed, she still hurt. She had never felt so alone, and she had been glad (selfishly) that her mother couldn't work because of her illness because she could send her letters and know that her mother would reply straight away.

This year is better though. She doesn't feel so empty, anymore. She and James are together, and she is happy again. He makes her laugh, he cares for her, he enjoys listening to her hum while they study together, or when they aren't talking.

She remembers telling her mum when they had gotten together. Her mother had been a bit confused, a bit thrilled, and a bit nervous all at once. All of Lily's other boyfriends had been…well…normal. James had been bugging her since he was fourteen. His persistence had made Mrs. Evans wonder whether this would be Lily's first adult relationship, or the most childish of them all. She would never find out.

She had wondered what her mother's definition of an adult relationship consisted of. When she had first asked James, he had thought immediately, as boys tend to do, of sex. But after a moment, he had added "someone you can share secrets with. Someone you don't have to impress, because you trust each other implicitly, so any mask is useless: they already know you, probably better than you know yourself."

That response had scared her. Because she was positive that James probably _did_ know her better than she knew herself. She almost wished he had just stuck to his first thought. At least being preoccupied with sex was normal for a seventeen-year-old boy. As far as she had witnessed, most of them didn't think about deep emotional connections so openly…

She wished he were there now to hold her hand while her mother died.

She wished he were there to kiss her temple, the way Vernon was kissing Petunia's.

She knew he would be there for her. He had told her so on the train. He had told her to come over if she needed to. That the Potter family's doors were always open.

And she knew that he meant it. That the moment that she felt at all sad, or alone, she could apparate over to his house—even though she had never been, even though she had never so much as met his mother—and he would smile, kiss her, and do whatever was necessary to make her feel better.

She wondered what would make her feel better.

She had to stop herself from continuing with the next thought.

She didn't want to think about sex with James. She didn't want to think about sex at all, not while her mother was dying. She didn't want to think about how with her past boyfriends, she had not once considered sex, even though she had known that they had considered it.

She emptied her mind, and, for the first time in minutes, and noticed again the beeping of the monitor.

She heard her mother's voice in her head. "_One and two and one and two and more weight on your bow Lily one and two and"_ and she heard her own squeaking attempts at playing Mozart.

It had sounded awful. But try as she might, she could not remember how she had played it after a few bars, only how it sounded on the record her mother had played for her, trying to remind her of the intonations required to play Mozart.

The music washed over her and she closed her eyes, hearing it again, losing herself in perfection and memories of her mother.

When the piece was over, all was silent.


	5. Battlegrounds

**Battlegrounds**

"You know something, James," said Alice, "I think, if you tried, you could _possibly_be a little more juvenile. You would have to try very hard, admittedly, but I am pretty damn sure you have it in you."

"Alice, I'm a taken man, so stop your flirting," grinned James.

"There are so many better ways to spend New Year's Eve, you know. But I mean, seriously? A _snowball fight?_"

"A _drunken_ snowball fight," corrected Sirius, tossing her a flask.

"What's in this?" asked Alice.

"Depends on your flask, dunnit? Let's wait for Lillins, then, I will explain to you ladies the rules of the Annual Marauders New Years Eve Snow Ball Bash Bonanza Thingy."

"It was the 'thingy' at the end that gave that sentence punch, Sirius," commented Remus, carrying over a large pile of candy.

"Oy! Lily! Get your arse over here!" shouted Peter.

"Very polite, Peter. You do realize she's talking to my mum, right?" asked James.

"Your mum knows I don't have the cleanest of vocabulary."

"True," admitted James, "but there are ladies present."

"Oh shut up, you wankers," snapped Alice.

Alice was in a bad mood. Alice was supposed to be spending New Years curled up in the arms of her beloved, Frank Longbottom, but he was off doing something for Dumbledore and none of us knew exactly what that entailed.

Not that Alice or I (or Lily for that matter) knew exactly what it was like to be with the boys on New Years. As far as we knew, every New Years since they started Hogwarts, they have gathered and celebrated together. We the female members of Gryffindor tower used to joke that they were probably off worshipping Satan together. But we never really knew what went on here. This was the first year that we were included, and we didn't know exactly what was proper.

We were there because Lily was there, and we didn't know what was proper when being around her either. Her mother died of cancer a week before. At first, we all thought that Lily would want to be with her family. She was for a little while, but then her sister and future-brother-in-law drove her out (much to her father's chagrin) and so she was here with her boyfriend.

She seemed to be doing all right, though. Or at least, as well as could be expected.

"Sorry, everyone," she said breathily as she ran through the snow towards us.

"Don't worry about it, Lil—" James began.

"Merlin, Lily. Way to keep us waiting," growled Sirius.

She laughed.

"Sorry, sorry," she repeated. She went to stand next to James, who took her hand in his.

"Right-o. Now. The Rules of the game," said Sirius pompously, "are as follows. Four teams—so I guess someone is going to have to be on their own—build a snow fort each. Everyone has ten minutes to do so. Then the fun begins. An old-fashioned snowball fight with a twist: every time you get hit, you have to take a sip of your flask. The first group to finish their flask loses and so forth, but they can continue to pelt snow if they feel so inclined. The last group to finish gets a sock full of money (which I have in my room)—"

"Is it one of your socks? Because I don't want to touch anything that has been on your smelly foot," Alice interrupted.

"It is rude to interrupt, Alice. And no, it is not my sock. I am simply in possession of it."

"Then what's the candy for?" asked Lily.

"Ah. I was getting to that—"

"You are taking far too long, Sirius. Hurry up," grumbled Remus, who was shivering.

"Remus, how on earth are you cold?" demanded Sirius. "You are a creature of the—"

"Sirius, be nice," said James, sternly.

"I was going to say of the north. And it isn't even that cold out,"

"Get on with it, Sirius," snapped Remus.

"The candy," continued Sirius loudly, "is for those who have partners with them in their snow fort. If you are feeling daring, you sneak out, and try to get a piece of candy from the middle. If you are hit, though, you forfeit your candy to the person who hit you. The group with the most candy at the end gets bragging rights."

"What, no sock full of money?" teased Lily.

"Your mocking is not appreciated, Lillinsky," Lily rolled her eyes. We were never entirely sure why Sirius called Lily _Lillins_ or _Lillinsky._ He gave nicknames to everyone (and everything), but usually they were things like…well… _Prongs_ or _Wormtail_. They were rarely related to the name of the person being nicknamed. Except for _Lillins_or _Lillinsky_. Lily used to go ballistic when he called her that. She has grown out of her tantrums though… "Now," continued Sirius, "in this hat, there are seven differently colored balls."

James snorted.

"Maturity, James," scolded Alice.

"Alice, you have already challenged me to be the most juvenile I can be. So it is your own fault that I find the word _balls_ amusing on this night."

"Thanks, Alice," said Peter, "Now he won't stop."

"How on earth is this my fault?" demanded Alice.

"Because I said so," said James, sticking out his tongue.

"Ladies!" commanded Sirius, trying to stop the squabble.

"I am not a lady, Padfoot," said James.

"If you keep acting that way, you will be."

"Looks like Sirius is trying to justify being your midnight smooch, James," smiled Lily.

James ignored her and said, "Well, at least I am not like you and Moony, who are both bitches."

Peter, Sirius and Remus all laughed.

I really don't understand boys.

"In any event," chortled Sirius, "I have seven multicolored objects in this hat. So each of you, grab one."

"Sirius, at least let me have fun with this. You should have said 'everyone grab a ball.' Some best friend you are," pouted James, reaching into the hat and drawing out a blue ball.

"Haha. I have a blue ball."

"This is going to be unbearable," muttered Lily, reaching into the hat and drawing out a green one.

By the end of it, James was by himself ("no one loves me!"), Lily was paired with me, Alice and Remus were together and Sirius and Peter were a pair.

"All right, you have ten minutes! Now start!" called Sirius.

Lily and I began.

"Can you please find a way to coerce your boyfriend into stopping being immature to the extreme tonight?" I asked as I began digging in the snow.

"I am actually rather amused by it. I just need a stupid laugh. And he'll get bored with it soon enough. Listen, you work on the fort, I'll start the snowballs so we have a stash when we get started. I am determined to win a sock full of money."

"How are things with James?" I asked.

"You know. The way they appear, actually, which is refreshing. I mean, he doesn't stop being James. He just sometimes gives toerag James a sedative and is nice, normal, respectable James."

"Sometimes?"

"Weren't you just complaining about his desire to out-immature himself?"

"Boy needs attention."

"Only children, eh? Peter's not bad because he has a sister, and Remus is…well, I dunno how Remus escaped it."

"I think having a friend like James would do it."

She laughed.

Her laugh was a bit strained. For a moment, I wondered what it must be like to be Lily Evans.

I don't think I could have handled it anywhere near as deftly as she.

Lily began humming. She has always hummed in moments of silence. It used to get on all of our nerves. But now, we know it's just Lily.

I don't know what she is humming, but it sounds like Mozart.

"Hey. They are using magic to make their fort!" I exclaimed, looking over at Peter and Sirius' fort.

It looked like a mini-Hogwarts.

"Well I want my stupid sock of money, so you'd better get on that, Mary Macdonald."

"What time is it?" I called to Sirius, casting a charm to reshape our fort.

"About eleven o'clock. Two minutes left, folks!" he called back.

"I'm done, you know, and I am all alone and unloved and sad and pitiful and—"

"Oh, cork it, Prongs."

"You know you are not alone, James," called Remus, "You would be if you were playing this snow war game all by yourself. Then you would be alone and unloved and sad and pitiful and whatnot."

"And I wouldn't call you unloved, James," added Lily, her voice overly-sultry, "unless all my kisses and caresses mean nothing to you."

Sirius wolf-whistled.

"Oh, shut up, Sirius," snapped Alice.

"You know, Lily, I am feeling a bit unloved right now. Why don't you come over and remedy it," called James.

"Yeahno. I have a sock full of money to win."

"I could just give you a sock full of money," said James, hopefully.

"But that would make me a woman of poor repute, and then your mother would stop liking me."

"True. But I wouldn't mind that."

"Thanks, James. So glad to know what's important to you," laughed Lily.

"Siiirrriussss," whined James, "are there Honey Dukes in the candy pile?"

"No. They are bloody gross and I don't know how you like them."

"You are the worst best friend a man could ever want. I am denouncing you as my best friend. From now on, Mary is my best friend."

"Sure, James, sure," I called.

"You don't want to be my best friend?"

"Not while you are being an immature fool I don't."

"Your words wound me."

"They are only words, James."

"Sticks and stones break bones but words hurt forever, or something like that."

"James, love, the saying is 'sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never harm me,'" Lily stage-whispered.

"Oh. Well. Fine. Be that way. All of you gang up on James. I understand."

"Hmmm…That sounds like a battle strategy. Who's on board?" asked Alice.

"All right, ladies and gents. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. One. FIRE!" Sirius hollered.

I have never been the biggest fan of snow fights. I don't like it particularly when you get snow down the back of your neck and it stays there, cold and wet, until it melts, and is just plain wet. It is unpleasant.

But my fort was quite good, and Lily had a stellar aim. Not as good as James, mind, but quite good. And James is the bloody chaser on the bloody Gryffindor team, so it is hardly surprising that his aim is good.

Alice and Remus lost first. I don't know what was in their respective flasks, but Alice was unable to throw straight after five sips. Remus lasted a little longer than she did, but by the time they were done, they were both giggling and singing and making crude jokes, which was rather surprising coming from the two most straight-laced of us.

James was out next, although he was nowhere near as drunk as the other two. I heard him griping about getting cider in his flask—which was not remotely alcoholic enough for him.

Lily wasn't hit once. I was hit a few times. Sirius dodged all attacks quite neatly, and I don't know how on earth Peter managed to get as much candy as he has without magic, but he kept calling things like, "I've got fourteen chocolate frogs now," and such.

"You are a cheater, Wormtail," shouted James. He fired a snowball at the empty ground and hit a rat.

"James, don't pick on the animals," Lily scolded.

"I'm not. This is a very strong rat. It takes more than a single snowball to hurt him."

"How on earth do you know?" she demanded, "Is your house infested or something?"

"Nah. I just know this rat. Stop cheating, Wormtail."

I suspect that it is because of James that we won. Even slightly tipsy, he still managed to pelt Sirius and Peter to bits with snowballs.

Sirius called James a bunch of foul things, and claimed that he was pussy-whipped. James ignored him and told him that he won the bloody candy round and so he should just go and ingest the sugar already.

Sirius did so.

"Children!" we hear a faint call from the house.

Helen Potter was undoubtedly once quite tall, but she had osteoporosis and was now stooped and shorter than her son.

"Yes Mrs. Potter?" shouted Remus.

"It's nearly midnight. Do you want to set off some fireworks?"

We traipse, wet, tipsy (or drunk, in Remus' and Alice's case), back up to the house.

"I want to set one off!" said Remus.

"I'm sorry, Remus, but fireworks and alcohol don't mix well. I don't want you catching yourself on fire, even if I am a trained healer who is perfectly capable of putting out the fire and healing your burns before they fester. It would traumatize poor Jimmy and we can't have that," Mrs. Potter said.

James rolled his eyes, but said nothing. None of us had ever heard James being called _Jimmy_ until we came here. It is apparently a nickname reserved only for his mother, because even Sirius doesn't call him Jimmy—although that might be because, as previously stated, Sirius doesn't nickname most people according to their _real_ names.

"Now. Lily, would you like to set off the first one?" She handed Lily a large green rocket. She handed one next to James, then to Peter, then to me, and Sirius last. We go off into the yard again.

"Mum, do you have the sparklers for our annual duel?" called James.

"Yes. I got them especially long so that they will last long enough. Don't you lose this time Jimmy. You have the family honor to redeem," called Mrs. Potter.

"What's this?" asked Lily.

"You'll see," responded James, quietly.

"I would say it's midnight now, so you can probably set those off," called Mrs. Potter from the front steps.

Five fireworks shot off into the sky and exploded into a thousand tiny stars. Lily leaned over and kissed James. I turned away, to give them privacy. When I looked back, James had his arm around her shoulder. Both of them were looking up into the sky above them, their faces illuminated by the dancing sparks.

Mrs. Potter, from the porch, waved her wand and, with many loud bangs, more fireworks shot into the sky, creating a light show that continued on for several minutes.

"I think you outdid London this year, mum," called James.

"Yes. I rather think so. Well, boys, come get your sparklers, lord knows it's time that you all began playing with fire in a more hands-on sort of way. I mean, it is only three minutes into the New Year." James, Sirius and Peter raced back through the snow to Mrs. Potter, who held them metal sticks out to them.

"I remind you," she said, "that if one of you catches fire, I will have to punish you."

"Mum, we haven't caught fire doing this in years," grinned James.

"Yeah, Mrs. Potter, we'll be fine. We've definitely done this more drunk than we are," agreed Sirius, "Come on Moony, grab a sparkler."

The boys moved back towards us. They huddled close together for a moment, then their sparklers were alight, and the four of them broke into a duel.

"Come on, you fiend. Fight back! Or I will have your stash of dungbombs and there will be nothing you can do about it!" shouted Peter as he crossed sparklers with James.

James responded quickly, "Haha! You rat! As if I could ever lose with dungbombs on the line! But you, you shall forfeit your collection of magazines—and not the quidditch ones!" (Lily rolled her eyes at me.)

Sirius was shouting insults that sounded like "Prepare to meet your maker, you mangy, flea-ridden cur!" to which Remus could only respond by howling, "Who are you calling a cur, you dog?"

It was utterly ridiculous to watch.

"The great, overgrown children," murmured Lily, falling onto her back into the snow. She began making a snow angel, looking up at the fireworks, which were still shooting up in the distant town.

"It's nice to see that some things won't change, even in 1978," I said, sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"'S kinda funny, though," slurred Alice, flumping down as well, "I miss Frank."

"You're allowed," replied Lily, quietly.

We didn't notice when their duel ended, just when they came and sat down with us. Lily snuggled into James' side. He hugged her back.

"Well," said Remus, whose wool hat was now singed, "Happy New Year, everyone."

We all responded in kind, still watching the fireworks.

"I hope we can do this again next year," said Lily, "All of us together again, no matter what life after Hogwarts throws at us. Drunken snowfights, sparkler duels, James trying to be the most immature wanker I have ever met in my life. I hope it's just like this."

I could tell from the slight pause before the murmurs of agreement that Lily was not the only one who had been hoping just that—she had just been the only one to voice it.


End file.
